


Cutting Strings

by Peachy_Beatles



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bittersweet, Bottom John, I'm not even sure what this is tbh, M/M, Paul is a bit of an emotional masochist here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-24
Updated: 2019-03-24
Packaged: 2019-12-06 19:34:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18224501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peachy_Beatles/pseuds/Peachy_Beatles
Summary: Early 1969: With John’s increasing emotional unavailability, Paul is left clinging on to whatever he can get from him- no matter how unfulfilling.





	Cutting Strings

Golden light floods through the windows at Abbey Road studios, it’s seven o’clock and Paul yawns as he sets down his guitar on the wooden table in front of him. Standing up, he flexes his fingers that are sore from dancing along strings all day. The recording session has just ended for the day and he waves goodbye to George and Ringo as they leave. John walks up to him, tongue skimming over his bottom lip, “come back to mine” he says, voice husky as he leans towards Paul, who nods his affirmation.

Once he is finished packing up everything he walks outside, and spotting John leaning on his Rolls-Royce, cigarette in hand he quickly walks over and climbs into it. John drops the cigarette onto the gravel, scrapes it into the ground with the sole of his white trainer and climbs into the car.

The ride is silent; Paul taps his fingers nervously on his knee as the view from the window passes by him in a blur, _one two, one two, one two._ He knows exactly what John wants, and- although he feels somewhat guilty for thinking it- he’s thankful that Yoko did not turn up at the studio today. He also makes a mental note to call Linda when he arrives at John’s, just to tell her that he’ll be staying over at his due to the session running overtime.

 

When they arrive at his house, and are safely inside, John throws of his shoes and walks up the stairs, heading straight for his room. He glances back to make sure Paul is following, and in response Paul grins and nods his head.

 

Stepping into John’s room is familiar, Paul smiles at the half burnt joint on the floor and the papers strewn messily on his desk- which he knows are filled with caricatures of people rather than new songs-  before John distracts him by tugging him over towards the bed. He falls onto it and promptly sits up, “alright John” he huffs, leaning over to his friend to cradle his head in between his hands, and kisses him. They don’t have to engage in small talk, time is precious and it’s been too long since the last time Paul got to feel the light stubble growing John’s cheeks underneath his palms, and see how, underneath his long eyelashes, his pupils dilate. John grabs onto Paul appreciatively, pulling him closer and moaning when Paul bites onto his bottom lip. Paul slides his hand down John’s thigh whilst his other one cards through long auburn hair, grabbing onto it as he deepens the kiss. It is warm, but when John slips his tongue into Paul’s mouth it crosses the line into sexual, and Paul’s fingers reach towards John’s trouser button, wanting to touch more of him. John sits back, letting out a shaky sigh and allows Paul access to take them off for him, who pulls down them down his leg and off of them.

 

Sliding a finger across John’s bare thigh, Paul notes how much thinner he is than he used to be. John involuntarily shivers at the action, “lube’s in the drawer” he says, voice low and husky. Paul nods, he knows where it is, it’s always kept in the drawer- but he doesn’t want to speed things up. It hurts him to think that things can’t be as loving as they were, that he can’t keep John the whole night to kiss and explore. That John doesn't want to savour their time together, doesn't want what they have to be meaningful. He walks to the oak nightstand and opens it, reaching for the bottle that lies in the draw, he then crawls back onto the bed which creaks under his weight. Paul places a hand on John’s knee and pushes it open, spreading John’s legs for him. “Take of yer jumper” he breathes as he tugs at it’s cashmere hem. John slips it off, baring his pale skin and Paul licks his lip as his eye trace over the light freckles dotted over his arms. He leans forward and smooths his hand over John’s abdomen and then moves upwards, brushing over his nipples to rest at his shoulder before tentatively kissing him. John presses upwards, slipping his tongue into Paul’s mouth, the feeling creating pleasant flutters in his chest before he pulls away to breathe. Paul smiles softly at the exchange, and just the sight of John with his mouth parted a fraction, his body naked and so inviting causes his cock to twitch. He trails his fingers down John’s chest and wraps his hand around John’s cock, tugging the foreskin until he’s fully erect. With a shaky moan John lies completely back onto the bed and hooks a leg over Paul’s own in an attempt to drag him closer.

 

Understanding John’s silent invitation, Paul opens the plastic cap of the lube and pours the substance over his fingers. He nudges his index finger towards John’s entrance, pushing into the ring of muscle, and blood rushes to Paul’s cock as he feels how tight and warm John’s insides are. He looks up to check if his friend is okay, and sees him biting down on his lip. “Alright?” Paul asks and when John nods reassuringly he slips more of his finger in until he’s knuckle deep. He moves his finger slightly, opening John up carefully. With every stroke he brushes against his sensitive walls, nudging closer to his prostate. He pushes in a second finger, right by the other one and revels in the feeling of John’s tight insides and the soft whimpers that occasionally slip out of the man’s lips. Moving both fingers slowly he creates a soft rhythm, in out, in out, so as not to hurt him.

 

“Paul-” John growls, irritated, the delicate teasing making him impatient, “If you don’t hurry up I’ll get someone else to fuck me.”  


Paul blinks, hurt and angry. For a moment he does wants to go faster, truly fuck him and for all the tenderness to disappear. But he knows better than to give into John and his acid tongue. Slowly digging his fingers into John further, he puts more pressure onto his walls and firmly stretches him out; John inhales sharply and clenches around him. Paul continues like this, cruelly drawing out every drag of his finger, and adding a third one, he makes sure John can feel every steady, slow movement inside of him. Paul then takes them out and quickly rids himself of his trousers, pulling them down and off his legs. He grabs the lube, ignoring John’s soft whimpers and the sound of his shallow breaths and pours it over his dick, positioning himself at John’s entrance.

 

“This okay?” Paul whispers, he brings his head closer to John’s and kisses him on his quivering lips. John nods, “fuckin’ ‘ell Paul” he manages, “yes.”

  
  
The warm feeling of sliding into John causes Paul to moan, god- he feels good. But he makes sure not to be too hard on John, pushing into him unhurriedly. When Paul notices the slight tears welling up in John’s eyes he can’t help but feel aroused, heart skipping a beat. He kisses John again, pressing his lips into the soft skin of his neck, murmuring into his ear, “feel so good John.” John groans, his hands grabbing onto Paul’s back and digging into the skin there as he shifts and feels Paul inside of him. He pushes his hips down, feeling the slide of the length within him, the grind of his hip downwards becoming more desperate as he feels it penetrate him further. Paul bites onto his lip, trying not to jerk into John, enjoying the way he moves and the obscene noises slipping past his lips. “Fuck Paul- come on” John gasps. Paul moans and starts to move his hips, he hoists one of John’s thighs up to wrap around him, seeking a better angle. The warmth engulfing his dick is incredible, he’s missed John, and when another leg wraps around him Paul starts thrusting in earnest, deep. John arches his back and whimpers feebly, “yes.”

  
Paul’s thrusts are strong and slow, he doesn’t want to be frantic and likes John writhing underneath him, loves how sweat trickles down his face and how his beautiful eyes flutter open and closed. He bites down on the sensitive skin of John’s neck, knowing it’ll bruise. “Paul- fuck.” John gasps, “can’t” he says. Paul brings his head up and stills, “what?” He asks, and John whimpers, “no. keep moving- please”, the tears gathered in his eyes slip down his cheeks and the sadistic part of Paul sparks with arousal. “D-don’t leave marks” John explains. _Right_ . Paul starts moving his hips again and John bucks down into them, “no one’ll see” he reassures, pressing more kisses onto John’s skin and licking the bite mark he left there. John tosses his head back, baring more of his neck as he groans, “just.. go faster.”  
Paul smiles, feeling victorious and kisses him again, John comes so undone during sex and he loves it. Not wanting to rush, he continues with his steady pace, enjoying the pleasurable feeling of John around him, revelling in his wrecked face and the twitching of his body. Tears continue to slip down John’s cheek from the tortuous pace, he moans in desperation for more, but through his haze of desire he feels helpless and weak; instead he allows Paul to fuck into him at his own leisure, tender but cruel.

 

Paul kisses John's wet cheeks, calls out his name as he quickens his thrusts, seeking the warm friction that John provides. Underneath him, John squirms, “Paul” he groans, wrapping his legs around him tighter, needily. Paul starts starts fucking into him faster then, letting out low moans as his need to release increases. John bucks his hip suddenly, the new ruthless pace surprising him, and too turned and tired to keep on moving, he falls slack against the sheets of the bed, leaving Paul in control.

 

The sight of John pliant on the bed causes Paul to moan with lust, he continues to fuck him roughly, propping himself up with a bent arm next to John’s head, his other hand reaching downwards to tug at John’s dick. “Oh fuck-” John cries out, biting onto his bottom lip to stifle his moans. Paul can tell he’s on the precipice of an orgasm by the pre-cum spilling from his dick, wetting his hand. With a loud moan John spasms on the bed and cums. Paul fucks him through it as his walls clench around his dick, creating the most incredible, tight pressure. “I’m close” Paul breathes, and John nods desperately, allowing Paul to continue using him. Cum fills him as Paul finishes with a groan, riding his orgasm out before he collapses on top of John. He presses a chaste kiss to his cheek before rolling off.

 

Save for their heavy breathing, there is no other sound to be heard as Paul looks up at the ceiling. He is content and satisfied, and as his heartbeat steadies he looks over at John and a feeling of adoration fills him. “That was good” he says, an understatement; but it’s all he can utter since his brain is unable to process anything else. John nods and gets up, groaning as he feels Paul’s cum inside of him. He staggers to the bathroom and Paul listens sleepily as the shower is turned on, water hitting the tiled floor. John reenters the bedroom only five minutes later, a towel resting around his waist. Paul shuffles over and wraps an arm around him as John slides into the bed. He kisses his shoulder, and as his eyelids grow heavier, he gently falls asleep.

  


***

 

The next morning, Paul wakes up to the noise of John shuffling about. He yawns and sits up on the bed, rubbing his eyes. “Where are you going?” He asks. John glances at him, his wild bed hair endearing, and Paul smiles at it. “Yoko’s waiting for me” he answers vaguely. “Ah-” Paul’s face falls, for a moment he feels as though he’s been stabbed; it’s too early for the reminder that John is no longer an irresponsible boy, who he can kiss all morning and keep for the rest of the day. He collects himself, face a mask as he gets up and collects John’s clothes that are strewn near the bed, tossing them to him. “Ta. Don’t you need to get back to Linda too?” John asks as he steps into his white jeans, pulling them up over his slender legs. A mixture of anger and guilt seeps into Paul, he gives John a tight lipped smile as he replies, “yeah”, but makes no effort to get ready. Irritation bubbles under his skin as he watches John get ready to leave; putting on his thick cashmere jumper, followed by his round glasses which he grabs from the nightstand. “Bye John” Paul says as he watches the man turn the knob of the door. John glances over his shoulder and gives a noncommittal wave before slipping out of the room.

 

Suddenly, Paul is alone. After the sound of the door clicking shut has registered, he sits back and collapses onto the bed, pressing his head into his hands. He’ll leave in a moment.  



End file.
